The 14x18 Epilogue - Destiel
by Lee Austen
Summary: After admitting that Cas is dead to him, those few words haunt Dean until he breaks down. And with Sam's help, Dean finally admits how he truly feels about Cas. But can he fix what has been broken? Maybe all it takes is Sam's help to patch up ten years worth of pain and denial.


When Dean almost nosed the Impala into a cluster of boulders on the side of the highway, Sam yelled as his head collided with the roof of the car.

"Dammit, Dean!" he fumbled for his phone still illuminated in the dark depths by his boots. The yellow and white wrappings that a chicken burger had been nestled in was still crumpled on the floor. And yet, nothing about this particular drive back to the bunker felt normal.

The endless silence that contained so many words. The cries for help for months now. It was becoming so unbearable to sit alone with Dean and try to ignore the obvious. The dark cloud almost about to burst from anguish and doubt.

"I'm just…" the older Winchester's voice was barely audible as he gripped the steering wheel and took measured breaths. "Sorry."

"Sorry?" Sam cocked his head in Dean's direction with a look of bewilderment. "Dude, you almost ran us off the road. In case you haven't noticed, it's close to midnight and the last thing we need is to be stranded in the middle of nowhere."

"Look, I said I'm sorry, okay?" Dean suddenly pushed open the door on his side of the car and leapt out. He obviously was frustrated about something. The very thought of what it was had been eating away slowly on his nerves since they had left Donatello and Castiel behind.

No matter how many times his big brother tried to escape the clutches of suffocating under pressure though, Sam always managed to untangle him from the weeds. Slowly, he climbed out of the car, his long limbs brushing through green shrubs. And just for a moment, as his eyes found Dean leaning onto the trunk of the car, Sam felt a sharp stab within the depths of his chest.

It was like having a painful epiphany. The kind that managed to sneak up suddenly and dangerously. Because all the signs had been visible for a long time. He was quite aware that Dean had been struggling with a lot of things. His major suicidal decision to lock himself inside a box for eternity. The loss of their mother that still tampered with his mind. And above all of that, there was one other part of Dean's life that seemed to be killing him slowly.

"Maybe I should drive," he managed to initiate the kind of conversation that would change their lives forever. "You know, since you're distracted."

"I'm not distracted," Dean offered up defensively. He scowled, bent down to collect a rock of some kind and then without sparing a moment, he hurled it out into the dark.

Sam didn't want to tamper with the sore part of his brother's heart so suddenly though. He had to tread lightly. Perhaps, never ever mention the blaring truth of things that had been blinding both of them for years now.

You see, to stand as a witness whilst being forced to stifle the truth had become quite detrimental to Sam in more ways than one. Sam cared deeply for his brother. So much, that he couldn't quite understand why this specific topic would be like a ticking time bomb between them.

Maybe it was the fact that thinking about this was way easier than talking about it. Inside Dean's mind, he was allowed to suffer alone. He could cage his heart up without having to explain why he continued to scream in agony over something that felt wrong to him. Something that obviously nagged him every single second of every single day. And the more Sam thought about it, he hated that his brother felt like they couldn't talk about it.

"We can't bring her back," Sam said, focusing on a pair of headlights heading their way. A heavy truck loaded with logs thundered by. The road rumbled under them. It felt like there was chaos beneath their feet. Like all the demons were trying to escape. "But we can learn to cope with her death again."

"I don't want to talk about her," Dean's gruff reply wasn't surprising.

Sam nodded. "Okay. Okay fine. Then talk to me."

He had come to realize a long time ago though, that there were demons like Ruby and Meg and other embodiments of evil. But there were also demons that nested in people's minds and hearts and tried to let the darkness win.

"Talk to me, Dean," Sam tried in a hushed tone. He studied his brother's shadowed face.

"About what?" Dean toed the hard road under his right boot. Those green eyes studied the chipped surface.

"About why you ran us into the side of the road," Sam used a levelled voice. "About where your mind is and has been. Because this isn't just about mom, is it? I thought that it had to be. I thought that maybe this was about us running out of options to bring her back. But it's been a week and you're not grieving anymore. You're locking yourself up in a box because of something else. Or someone."

Dean stumbled a bit. He sighed. "This has nothing to do with you. Truth be told, I'm just trying to figure things out."

"What things?" Sam tried.

Dean actually snorted. He shook his head and smiled into the dark. "Okay, Doctor Phil. We're not going there."

"Why not?" Sam pushed himself away from the car. He faced Dean now with a searching look. "Out of all the people in the world, why can't you talk to me? When something's bothering me, I open up. I don't hold back anymore. I just, talk to you. Isn't that why we trust each other so much? Enough to tell each other the truth?"

"It just don't feel right this time," Dean turned away. And then, without second thinking it, he hopped onto the trunk of the Impala. Legs parted, he planted his elbows on both thighs and those tired hands etched with lines from years of fighting balled into fists.

Sam said nothing.

He merely stood there studying his brother's profile and he wondered whether he should continue to avoid touching the wound or should he at least try to bandage it. He decided on the latter, hoping that for once, following his gut feeling wouldn't lead them into another fight that would end with their footsteps leading in different directions.

"What did Cas tell you last week before we drove away?" Sam leaned onto the back of the car. They were facing the same direction now which avoided any kind of confrontational feeling.

"He asked if he could come along." Dean's voice seemed to be drifting further into his throat. The image of Mary lying lifeless in his arms. The scent of burning wood still contorted his sanity. "I told him to use his damn wings and meet us at the bunker."

"Wow." Way off. Something was definitely wrong between the two of them. "Seems heartless, doesn't it?" Sam pointedly said. "What Jack did. Dean, the blame shouldn't rest on Cas alone. Like I said before, we knew. We saw the signs."

"Look, Sammy, I'm not going to go easy on him because of this, okay? He doesn't get a free pass just because he's a freaking angel."

"Wow," Sam shook his head. "Okay."

"He has done crappy things," Dean was on a roll now as his voice climbed to a crescendo. "And I mean, hurtful things to me that you don't know about. I wish people would stop to think that I actually have feelings too."

"No one is saying that you don't have feelings," Sam simply said. "We're all trying here to do what's right. And to hold on. We all believed in Jack, didn't we? Especially Cas. That's why he's been trying to help."

"Yeah, well every time he tries to help me, he kills me a little more inside." When Dean realized how much he had let out, those green eyes hardened. And for a moment, he turned away, as if shielding his true feelings from his brother.

Sam, however, had seen enough. "I meant that he was trying to help Jack," he said softly, worry etching on his face.

He watched his brother's face fall, literally losing all belief in himself at that critical point. And it was like looking at a flower lose its petals one by one. Withering away slowly. Whatever was eating at Dean couldn't be something simple. It wasn't just about losing their mother. That much Sam was certain of at this point. Most of the pain in Dean's green eyes centered around Cas. And the more Sam thought about it, he kept seeing the three of them in the house. He kept observing Dean's painful attempt to avoid making eye contact with the angel.

The words 'you're dead to me' kept replaying over and over in his damn mind. The tears glistening in Cas' eyes. The way he held Sam's gaze afterwards, trying to expose himself….trying to show Sam that he was falling apart bit by bit because of Dean's hurtful sentences. And still, although a week had passed by, they hadn't heard from Cas at all except for one phone call after returning to the bunker late that afternoon after Mary's cremation.

When Sam answered his phone, he actually wasn't focused enough to register who had been calling. Until he heard Cas' words that haunted him onto now.

"Sam, I'm sorry. But I can't do this anymore," Cas had grown silent. Then, "I'm barely alive right now. Dean…" And then the call had ended.

What was he supposed to do now? Was he supposed to pretend that everything was going to be alright between his brother and Cas? Was he supposed to ignore the ten years behind them?

"Dean, I know that you're not used to having someone care about you besides me. But he's not going to stop. Cas isn't going to give up on you."

"Well he should just stop," Dean's voice suddenly trembled a little. "He should just let me go. You too."

It was painful. Sam had to admit that much. Listening to his brother expose his lack of belief in surviving the toughest times. Even when death used to be staring at them in their faces, Dean always was optimistic. He wanted to fight his way through to another alternative. But not now. Now, it was almost as if he was giving up easy. Too easy. And why?

"I know it's hard. Look," Sam took a hold of Dean's left shoulder and give it a reassuring squeeze. "We're not going to stop looking after you. Not because we feel like we're obligated to do it. But it's just the right thing to do. You. Me. Cas. We're like a messed up but good version of the Brady Bunch."

The reaction unearthed from his older brother was a cautious look. Almost as if Dean was warning him to back off. Not because Dean would throw them onto the ground for a fight. But because the subject was too heavy to broach.

"Cas loves you, Dean," Sam bared it all. "He's not going to let you go." And immediately, the wall between them thickened. It was like trying to make eye contact through a hazy kind of fog. Sam slowly witnessed what Dean always managed to do when he just didn't want to talk about it. He created a barrier that was impossible to breach.

"He cares so much about you, Dean," Sam tried again. "More than a brother…"

"Sam, don't…" Dean warned, shooting daggers now through the boundary already drawn between the two of them.

"Don't what, Dean?"

"Don't feed the flames. I've been burnt too badly already. My scars are never going to heal." Dean lowered his head and studied clenched fists. He clenched them, then those fingers uncurled slowly but not fully. "I'm just…done."

"You can't give up," Sam admitted softly. "Whatever it is, you can't let go."

Dean sighed. He kept the tears at bay just enough so that his weakened state couldn't be revealed to his brother. "I just don't... I don't feel comfortable in my own skin anymore," Dean said in an unleveled tone.

Sam sighed. Suddenly a memory began to play in Sam's mind.

It had occurred when they were a little under ten years old and locked in a cheap motel room. Dean used to sit by the window as if they were inside a cage. All day and all night whilst Sam watched cartoons on TV until his eyeballs burned. But on one rainy afternoon when thunder sounded like the world was ending and the water gushing down the pipes outside threatened to flood the yard, it was something Dean had said that he would never forget.

"Sammy, I don't feel comfortable in my own skin."

Sam, who was young and eager to provide any kind of happiness in his big brother's life, immediately reared his head to consider the lanky form of Dean in the window seat. "Yeah? Why?"

"I think I'm someone else."

"Like how?" Sam frowned, knees tucked under him. "Like Batman?"

Dean sighed. "Nah," those green eyes strained hard through the hazy rainfall, hoping to fight the tears. "I just feel like that."

"Well you know what?" Sam said, sitting up and inhaling deeply.

Dean turned to look at him. It was his turn to frown. "What?"

"They don't sell skin suits for humans," Sam said matter-of-factly. "So you have to suck it up and learn to live in yours."

Even years after, now all of it made sense.

Sam found that he was guiltily studying his brother's hunched profile whilst Dean merely had diverted his attention elsewhere. The road. He was glaring at the road long and hard, almost as if he loathed the journey they had taken away from their last destination. And it was contradicting to what Dean had admitted about leaving Cas without feeling remorse.

"You know," Sam wiped his chin as a gesture played upon whilst thinking, "I think we've reached a place where I feel that if we talk about this…the truth, you're not supposed to be ignorant about it. And hear me out…." He held up his hand as Dean opened his mouth to speak.

"I get that... Love pretty much frightens you to a point where you want to run us off the road. I get that you never want to talk about what's been happening between you and Cas. But hey," he observed those green eyes glistening with tears, "you're lucky. You know why? You get to have a second chance. A third. A fourth. It's been a little over ten years and after all we've been through, the two of you patch things up."

It was Dean's turn to sigh. He drifted off a little into thoughts of his own. And Sam allowed him to. At least it meant that he was thinking about something else other than pain and loss. Sam was hopeful. He always had been the hopeful one. They had both loved and lost. For him, if he could have had Jessica to hold, to be with again, he wouldn't want to put her in danger.

But somehow, Cas and Dean were different. Both of them were warriors. They understood the dangers and they had been through the pain and suffering together. In times of need, they supported each other. Dean didn't have to look for Cas. Cas found him. Always. And Sam wasn't envious of their relationship anymore because for a long time, he began to see where their bond would lead.

Their kind of love wasn't the normal kind. It was chaotic and beautiful. When Castiel was with them, Dean always held his breath without knowing. Without even knowing that Sam witnessed the uneasiness. The battles fought in his brother's heart for so many years. The doubts. The fear of loss. And now all he could do was try to shelter his brother until Dean could believe that he was allowed to be happy.

"I don't know how to talk to you about this, Sammy," Dean sounded broken and in pain. He hugged himself and blinked through tears whilst staring up at the twinkling stars. "I really don't. I was never good with…feelings."

"I know," Sam nodded. He carefully patted his brother's hunched shoulder. "At least we're getting somewhere, huh?"

"Maybe you should do all the talking," Dean suggested, lowering green eyes to his fingers splayed out upon his lap. "Seems like you know more than enough."

He had become a tight ball of tension and feelings. One word could tip him over the edge. That much Dean was certain of. But with Sammy it was…more like being home. Feeling comfortable enough to cry without being judged. And yet, to talk about what he was feeling, to expose his deepest, darkest secret was beyond his capabilities at the moment. Not because he was unsure of what was happening to him. But because he was terrified to know that he couldn't run from the truth anymore.

If Sam could have seen the signs all these years behind them, then Dean realized that he hadn't been imagining anything at all. He hadn't been delusional. He hadn't been unfair to himself. At times, he almost felt like he had been losing his damn mind. And it wasn't just the feelings. The feelings came and went like tidal waves. Every single day and night he felt things.

He could control those feelings when Cas wasn't there. But it was also his automatic actions. His reflexes.

Dean remembered doing those awful things. Or so he called them. Like leaning in a little too much when they were sitting together. Just so that he could feel how warm Cas was. Just so that he could somehow invade Cas' personal space to feed off of his energy. To feed his guilty conscience of knowing that deep down inside, the truth wasn't all about running from his tormenting feelings about Cas. The truth was knowing that the definition of home and comfort and love and care was all about that one damn angel who had turned his world upside down ten years ago.

"Okay," Sam complied. He still needed to be cautious. "So I know that you and Cas share a profound bond." When Dean shook his head and smiled a little, it was enough to soften Sam's fear of losing his brother. "It took a while for me to figure out what that meant. But I did. I kind of…stumbled into this without even expecting it. And then I was hopeful that maybe if you could figure out for yourself what you wanted, then maybe you could learn to accept it bit by bit."

"Even before you met him, I kind of wondered about your sexuality though," Sam tried with a smile. When Dean considered him with a bewildered look, all Sam could do was offer a mouth shrug. "Don't expect me to forget Andrew in high school, Dean. And Barry."

"Barry was a leach," Dean frowned. "He pretended to be my friend just so that he could steal my girl," he said matter-of-factly.

"Michelle," Sam nodded with a smile. "I remember. But I always thought that he was into you."

"Geez, nothing gets past you, does it?" Dean sighed.

"I was always an observant kid," Sam shrugged. "Not my fault."

"Andrew," Dean said softly, his eyes becoming distant as the stars twinkled above them in the dark velvet sky. "I never liked myself when he was around. He made me hate the fact that I felt different."

"Dad hated Andrew," Sam said.

"And he hated me because he knew what I was," Dean said in a broken voice. "Every time he called me a pansy, I toughened up and tried to prove that I wasn't. To me, I became one of the monsters dad always taught us how to fight. And I've lived with that for years now. I just can't…love myself anymore."

"Dean, dad's gone now," Sam reminded his brother in a tone that reflected pain. "His opinion about you doesn't matter anymore than should be necessary. He was acting like any parent would. Defensive. I remember when he used to taunt you about your interest in playing the guitar and piano. Or when you were obsessed over Patrick Swayze in Dirty Dancing. But we're living our lives now. He's not here. And there's no one to judge you but yourself."

Gruffly, Dean sat up and exhaled. He spread his arms out and said, "Sam, the worst enemy you can ever have is your mind."

"You're trying to tell me that I don't know how that feels?" Sam frowned. "Because I do, Dean."

"When you believe you're a shitty person for so long, you become a shitty person."

"But then someone comes along, eager to prove to you that you're not so bad after all," Sam reassured him in a calm voice. "And as much as I've been there for you, I know that that person is definitely Cas."

"You're a big fan, and always have been, huh?" Dean actually smiled.

Sam shrugged. "What can I say? I like the guy. He's my best friend. And if I'm being honest, he's the only person I find myself imagining you tied up with. Believe it or not," Sam shook his head and smiled as Dean's green eyes widened, "I've been a big shipper of you two for pretty much ten years tops."

"How fantastic," Dean said dramatically. He sighed.

"Now tell me what really happened a week ago," Sam pressed on. He rested a hand on his brother's shoulder and squeezed lightly.

When Dean locked eyes with him, and Sam witnessed the tears welling up, his heart shattered for his brother. He couldn't imagine what he could be going through. Pulling through all the damage and pain they had been exposed to over the years wasn't easy on their mental states. At times, he was surprised that he still had a heart with room enough to care about anyone apart from Dean. Many people would have flipped out by then.

"After mom's…you know," Dean didn't want to expound on last week's heartbreaking moment, "and we stopped for gas and you went in to grab something to eat, we sat alone in the car and…" his voice broke so suddenly, "Sammy it was probably the most hurtful silence I've ever experienced in my damn life." Dean covered his face. "He sat in the backseat and he kept looking at me and I could feel how we were both suffocating. And I kept thinking…we've never suffocated when we were with each other. Never."

The way Dean was exposing himself to Sam was enough to break him too. Leaning on the trunk of Baby, Sam's eyes watered. He blinked away his tears but Dean allowed his to flow as he blindly blinked into the night that had suddenly grown so quiet. So still.

"Did you say anything to him?" Sam wanted to know.

"I didn't have to say anything, Sammy," Dean whispered. "I've never told you this before, but since Cas raised me from hell, he can read my mind as easy as breathing. And that night in the car, I thought a lot."

"Like what?" Sam was a bit fearful. After all, after Jack had killed Mary, Dean wasn't too comforting.

"I told him through my thoughts how I was angry. So angry, I ended up blaming him and that I was sorry. And then I screwed it up," Dean sighed. "I guess he felt how terrible it was between us at that point. To me, I should have regretted the moment out loud when I said that he was dead to me. But I didn't take it back. And what I felt was just pain. So much pain. Inside my chest." Dean tried to explain as he crumbled in front of Sam. "I thought I was going to die because he hated me so much that he was going to waste me. I know it's stupid," Dean's eyes locked with Sam's. "That's what I felt. Like he hated me."

"Cas could never hate you," Sam reminded him. "Come on, Dean."

"I know. But that's what I felt like I deserved after what I did. So I pushed him away. I told him to leave me the hell alone because I couldn't deal with what was going on between us and what had happened to mom. I couldn't deal with all of it. And when I looked back, he was…gone." Dean raked his fingers through his hair, shielding his eyes, but Sam knew in that moment that he was crying. His shoulders shook.

Eventually, the sound of his raspy breathing filled the space between them and Sam just circled his arms around his brother and held him close. Immediately, Dean let go of all the suffering he had endured for a week. He cried in his brother's arms almost as if his soul had been threatening to burst like a dam for days. And Sam just consoled him. He wrapped his arms tighter around Dean and cried a little with him.

For a long time afterwards, as he took over the wheel of the Impala with Dean in the backseat, Sam kept thinking about what had happened. His brother was so broken. He had never truly seen him in this state even in regards to Lisa. Sleepless nights that was filled with Dean staring into space. Days on the road since Mary's death when Dean refused to eat, his face took on a sallow look. His eyes seemed haunted by what had happened between him and Cas.

Truth be told, the fallout between his brother and the angel couldn't have happened at a worst time. Dean had been tormented by his guilt for seven days now and maybe longer. Maybe ten years now or longer. Maybe since that night when Sam had told him that he couldn't buy a new skin. And after all these years, Sam felt terrible that he hadn't talked to his brother about it sooner. Maybe if he had, then Dean wouldn't be lying listless in the backseat with his green eyes so vacant, the flame behind them had been blown out like a candle in the wind.

Maybe Cas would still be with them instead of who knows where. And if Cas could really hear all the things that could be swirling around in Dean's mind, then where was he now? Why didn't he come back sooner? Why had he left?

Making a stop at a gas station with the excuse of using the washroom worked just fine enough for Sam. He left Dean in the car staring up at the ceiling and wandered to the rear of the building. And in the still of the night as the moon gazed down at him hopefully, Sam searched the sky for a star that could ridiculously be Castiel.

"I know you're somewhere out there," he said, feeling his chest tighten. "Cas, I know you can hear me. And you can hear…Dean. He's not doing okay right now. And I suspect, neither are you. But he needs you. He really does." Sam sighed and glanced down at a crumpled Pepsi can by his boot. "You both need each other. Whatever he said to you before, those things were said out of him being unsure about himself. For a long time, he's been struggling with this Cas. And it's not been easy. For both of you, it hasn't been but you can't just give up, can you?"

There was of course, nothing like the flutter of wings or that deep, gravelly voice signaling Cas' presence. Just the rustle of leaves and the running of water somewhere in the building behind him.

It reached a point where Sam was just completely frustrated with the whole ordeal. So frustrated, that he strode back to the Impala, pulled open the door, spied his brother sleeping in the backseat, started the engine and fired his way out of there.

Imagine being an onlooker for so many years. Knowing that something was happening between people you loved and cared about deeply. And not knowing what the hell to do about it. Imagine being there for their fights and their break ups, because Sam could only label them as that. Break ups. Dean and Cas had always been more than friends and whenever they argued with each other, it wasn't a normal one. It was explosive.

When the car nosed its way closer to the bunker, for the love of sleep, Sam wanted nothing but to collapse in his bed and fall into a black abyss of nothing. But apparently, he had no idea that he wouldn't be able to sleep a wink that night.

Sam descended into the bunker, with Dean weakly stumbling after him. They both had left their bags in the trunk of the car, promising to empty out everything afterwards. And now, on their cellphones were with them. And of course as much as their sanity left.

But from the moment Sam's eyes rested on the figure of someone sitting at the table with half his body curled up on the surface, he stopped. His heart faltered a little, knowing that deep down inside, he knew who it was even before registering it. But then, the actuality of seeing him there wasn't an honestly convincing thought.

"Cas?" he tried, moving forward with soft steps and a frown on his face.

The angel twitched a little and groggily unfolded himself. Shoulders still hunched, he looked obviously terrible enough to be labelled as a tragedy. His hair was tousled. His eyes were bloodshot and swollen from crying. And as Sam drew nearer, he registered the soaked cuffs of Cas' trench coat and wondered how long he had been crying.

Dean, of course had stopped, and those green eyes looked completely bewildered. It was funny how within five hours on the road, the older Winchester appeared as if he had been dragged through hell and back without being spared the dramatics. After all, nothing was as difficult as being battered by the obvious feelings arising from a broken heart.

Now, Cas merely considered Sam without looking at Dean and then, almost as if he was completely spaced out, the angel mumbled something.

It took a full minute for Sam to realize that Cas had whispered Dean's name. But then, it didn't only sound like his brother's name. Sam thought he heard something more. Something much more painful between the silence. And he couldn't quite understand how terrible the world could be by destroying an angel and his brother all at once.

"Where have you been?" Sam tried, as Dean stood rooted on the spot behind him. "I've tried calling you a dozen times. I prayed a dozen times…"

"I lost my phone," Cas said in a voice that was not his own. He blinked slowly up at Sam. "And I've heard your prayers. I just…couldn't come before. But I'm here now."

Even before Sam could answer though, he felt his brother's warmth brush past him. Slowly, of course, Dean wandered further into the bunker, with his hands hanging limply at his sides. He looked so lifeless. So broken. He went to stand between Sam and where Cas sat, as those wounded green eyes stared longingly at the only person who could really have managed to destroy him completely.

At first, Cas didn't even look at Dean. He was studying his hands. Flexing his fingers then slowly closing them back into his palms. Flexing. Then sighing. His skin had taken on a paler shade. The light behind those blue eyes had gone out.

"Cas," Dean said in the most wounded tone ever heard by Sam. "Look at me, please."

"I'll leave you two alone," Sam suddenly said. "I'm really beat. Have a good…"

"No, don't leave," Cas immediately said in a weak tone. "I'm dead to Dean. But I still mean something to you."

In that instant, Sam literally felt how his brother reacted to those few words. It was like a tsunami of painful feelings washed over Dean, causing him to blink back tears. Hot tears. And Sam realized that in order for Cas and his brother to survive that night, he needed to stay there with them. Because they couldn't anchor each other. Not when they were both broken. They needed him to help them.

So, naturally, he decided to stay.

"I prayed to you," Dean said in an uneven voice as he remained standing. "I told you that I was sorry for the things I said."

"I know you are," Cas said simply, folding his arms on the table. The sleeves of his coat bundled up around his wrists. "But I don't want to speak to you right now."

As if he was shot in the heart, Dean bent over a little and nodded. "Okay. I deserve that."

"Both of you," Sam said sternly as he chose to perch on the edge of the table, "stop it. Dean," he gestured at the bench on the other end of where Cas was, "sit down. You both need a mediator. And I'm not going to leave here until I'm satisfied that you're on the mend with each other."

Slowly but surely, Dean lowered himself onto the bench. His eyes were wet. But he had stopped crying. And maybe it was because of knowing that Cas was finally here. Maybe Dean realized that he could be able to explain himself. That he had another chance. And above all, Sam was willing to help. Sam was there. And he wouldn't leave until the two of them had said a few things enough to warrant a decent patching up of things.

"Okay, so Cas," Sam cleared his throat, "Dean and I talked tonight. He said… a lot of things that were really difficult for him to talk about. But we talked about what caused the two of you to…fall apart like this. Most of all though, Dean's really crumbling right now because he hates himself about what happened. He shouldn't have blamed you alone for what happened to mom. In the moment, like Dean is, he needed someone to lash out at and he's done it a lot to me. But he also does it to the people he cares the most about. And that person happens to be you."

Cas was staring at the table. He was looking at anything else but the man sitting across the table from him.

"That person's been you for a long time now, Cas," Sam admitted softly to the angel. "And I believe that the feeling is mutual because as much as we're really close friends, you and I, for years Dean's been your favorite. Don't deny it," Sam said quickly as Cas tried to speak.

"I wasn't going to…deny it," Cas said softly. "I want to admit that it's not just that he's my favorite. He's always been more to me than I bargained for…"

Sam gazed upon green eyes that widened and then as Dean caught himself, he blinked quickly. "You too, Cas."

"Dean," Sam raised a hand up, "not your turn to speak as yet. Hear me out. Both of you."

Appearing quite humored by his younger brother's upper hand in the situation, Dean settled back down in silence.

"I think that the problem has always been the distractions. Hunting. Lucifer. Michael. We've been saving people and you two have been ignoring the truth for years now. So it reached a point where you were going to explode whether you liked it or not. And it so happens that when the worst happened…mom being taken away from us, the situation presented itself," Sam sighed. "Had we been going about our lives like anyone else, minus the whole supernatural chaos, I think the two of you would have been able to resolve all of this a long time ago."

Dean seemed to agree. Cas, however, was still staring at his folded arms as if he was silently reflecting or…praying.

"Dean, I think that you have a few things to say to Cas," Sam tried, nudging his brother with his knee. "Not through prayer this time. But in audible words. And Cas," blue eyes met Sam's pair, "I think you should listen because believe me, Dean's never been here before with anyone and what he's about to say is pretty much going to drain him and destroy a lot of his pride."

"Jerk," Dean eyed his brother warily. But what he had to truly say, could he easily expose them to the one person who meant so much to him?

Dean found that he was suddenly fighting to form his feelings into words and for some odd reason, Cas made the situation much more difficult because he couldn't look at Dean. He just couldn't. And that alone made the older Winchester feel like he was the biggest disappointment on the face of the earth.

However, with a nudge from Sam and a reassuring look, Dean cleared the doubts from his mind and realized one thing; that he had to tell Cas how he really felt. He couldn't deny any of it now. Even if Cas didn't feel the same way about him, he had to empty himself.

"Like Sam said, I lashed out at you because I just hated myself for what had happened." Dean couldn't breathe. "And I'm sorry. I really am. But that isn't the reason why we're here right now. I mean, you can't even…look at…me," Dean's voice broke. His chest trembled as he reached up and wiped his face weakly. "I never thought that we would be here like this," he admitted to himself. "Where I could literally feel like you hate me so much, and you want nothing to do with me anymore."

Immediately, Cas finally allowed his blue eyes to meet green ones. He offered a bewildered look, almost as if he couldn't believe what had just been said.

"And I can't live with myself knowing that you hate me. It makes me feel like I should just go into my room, take my gun out and shoot myself because it hurts," Dean barely managed to say as tears spilled down his cheek. Cas was looking at him with such a pained expression, probably one Dean had never seen before. "Cas, for all my life I've hated myself. I never liked me. But when I met you, you've always liked the person I am. And I could never understand why. And now if the one person who believed in me as much as my brother does, suddenly doesn't like what he sees, then there's no point in…"

"Dean."

When Cas suddenly spoke, Dean felt as if his chest was about to explode. He stopped and stared at the man sitting across the table and he wished more than ever that he could rewind time. That he could go back and fix things.

"Dean, when it comes to you, hate does not exist in my vocabulary," Cas simply said and it was enough to soften Sam who smiled.

"But that's how you made me feel," Dean admitted with such worry in his tone, "like you wanted nothing to do with me anymore."

"I thought it was the same with you," Cas frowned. "I thought…that when I was last with you, you wanted nothing more to do with me."

"All I want is…you," and when Dean realized what he had just admitted, his green eyes widened. He considered Cas and wondered where this would lead them. What unforgivable sin he had been committing for ten years. "And I know you're a religious nut and you probably don't get what I'm saying here but…" and then Dean just couldn't say it. He couldn't.

He froze up and sat back and stared at his brother because for as long as he could remember, the truth always poisoned him. Dean could fight monsters and survive hell, but to admit that he was…what? Not normal? That he had been with Lisa and loads of other women and nothing would ever compare to…what he felt about Cas? What was he then? If he wasn't gay, like Bert and Ernie. Then what in the world was he?

He was an anomaly?

"Dean," Sam tried to bring his brother back to the room. He jerked his chin at Cas. "Tell him."

Swallowing hard, and totally hating himself for feeling like this would be his own kind of apocalypse, he decided that he had a lot to lose here. But if he wasn't truthful, then where would that lead them? Back to friends? Back to a place that freaking hurt?

"Dammit, Cas," he said in an unsteady tone, "this is hard for me. What if I lose you?"

"Dean, you wouldn't," Sam said confidently. "Go on."

"I mean, he's been hearing all of my thoughts since we've met each other," Dean pointed out, "I don't understand how he could even be ignorant of the truth. So why do I have to say it? Why me?"

"Dean, you have to say it because he needs to hear you say it," Sam said honestly. "Thinking something and then saying it are two completely different things. One has more power than the other. Suppose Cas hasn't been hearing you at all when you were talking to him? Suppose he was busy tuning into angel radio when your thoughts were running wild?"

"Huh," Dean stared at the table.

"You're saying plenty," Sam scolded Cas. "Why not pitch in?"

"I…" Cas was seriously stuck. However, he swallowed hard. "Dean, I haven't been able to read your mind since I fell and became human. Then even when my grace was restored, I had already lost that connection with you." What was registered on Dean's face was complete horror. "I can only hear prayers."

"Had a feeling about that," Sam shook his head and sighed. "Now talk," he hit Dean again but with his boot this time.

"Okay, um. Wow." Dean pretty much felt constipated. He studied his hands. "So I've been screaming that I've been in love with you…in my mind for so long now, and you never…heard me. Ever."

When Sam considered Cas' look of utter disbelief, he was afraid that maybe being an angel meant that homosexual thoughts were in fact sinful. He feared that Cas would think of Dean as impure. So he was ready to defend his brother.

However, he couldn't quite believe that Cas had been honestly ignorant about these feelings for such a long time. No way. Cas had his moments where he exposed a lot to Sam. In what he didn't say but what he implied.

"You can just tell me now to leave you alone for the rest of my life," Dean said as tears welled up in his eyes. He stared at Cas and appeared completely wounded. "I don't think I am going to be able to live without you. But I'll have to force myself to."

"Sam, could you…" Cas peered up at the taller Winchester with haunting eyes that began to plead.

"Sure," Sam practically leapt of the edge of the table and tore himself away from the situation. However, he lingered out of sight with his ear straining to listen in. His defense was that if things escalated into a fight, he could jump in to save the two of them.

For a long time though, neither of them said anything to each other. Cas was staring at Dean as if he was utterly confused about what had been said. And Dean was hanging onto every second of silence with a daunting look, perhaps too emotional in nature.

"Dean, how long have you been in love with me?" Cas' gravelly voice had taken on a softer tone now.

Of course, the other man was already on the brink of losing himself. "Since I met you," he admitted in a barely audible voice.

"And you…never felt the need to admit this to me?" Cas sounded so hurt, Dean stared at him with a look of surprise. "It's been ten years, Dean. Ten long years of Heaven and hell for me. Of all the times I've spent loving you, were better than Heaven ever could be. And all these years of fighting to deny my feelings have been much close to hell."

"Are you really telling me that…" Dean stopped and he couldn't breathe. He just couldn't. "Cas…"

"Dean!" Cas' lips trembled as he exerted enough sadness over the whole ordeal. "Yes. I am completely and undeniably in love with you. I have loved you from the moment I saw your soul in hell. And ten times more over these past years. There is nothing more in this world I'd rather have than you."

Dean felt as if the sun was exploding in his chest and his heart had probably died. "Cas. We wasted ten years." He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed deeply, feeling overwhelmed and fucked at the same time.

"But I still have an eternity to spend with you," Cas said softly. "I'll love you in this life and every other life afterwards."

"Cas," Dean croaked. "This is too much for me right now. I feel like I'm suffocating. I can't breathe." He tugged at the collar of his shirt and swallowed hard. "I need to…" and rising up from the table, Dean made a run for the stairs leading up and out of the bunker.

But he didn't quite make it. Not at all. Because before his boot could hit the fourth step up, Cas materialized in front of him after the sound of wings fluttering. And Cas pulled Dean close, close enough so that their lips brushed together dangerously. Momentarily, their chests heaved, and Dean's fist formed a claw gripping the lapels of Cas' coat.

He fell into him. And they held each other as they fought to hold back from kissing. As Cas tried to take control but Dean gripped him tightly and pushed the other man backwards. They were rough because of the pent of tension and feelings. Rough because both of them felt as if they had been cheated by each other. As if it was unfair that for all this time, neither of them were brave enough to make the first move.

"Kiss me," Cas pleaded as his cheeks flushed deeply when Dean pinned him against the wall. He could feel the heat radiating from Dean's passion and could see the fire in his eyes. "Please. Dean."

And that's when Dean moved in and took Cas' bottom lip between his teeth hungrily. He breathed out hot air that caressed the other man's face as their hands dove under their shirts, pulling and ripping buttons off. And still, it wasn't enough. Still they felt the anger and the pain and then Cas realized that he had to stop it. He had to be the one who made up for all the years behind him.

Taking a hold of Dean's shoulders, he spun them around so that the other man's back was now pressed onto the wall. And Cas kissed him deeply, and gingerly and passionately. He grinded his hips into Dean's welcoming body. He felt how he was hard and hot as flames burned everywhere. And Dean kissed him back hungrily as they both unearthed moans from each other than Sam shyly ran away from but with a smile.

"I want you," Dean finally managed to say as the feeling of being suffocated melted away gradually. He rested their foreheads together as their chests heaved. "All of you. I want to…taste you, Cas. I want to see you. All of you. Son of a bitch," he groaned when Cas slipped out of his grasp and weakly made his way down the steps.

When he settled himself at the table again, he could still feel that Dean was shooting daggers at him. But, the other man followed suit, coming to perch himself on the edge of the table where Sam had once been.

"I feel as if…we shouldn't jump as yet," Cas admitted shyly, avoiding eye contact but offering a small smile. "Before we fall hard."

"Dammit, Cas," Dean growled. "Are you really not feeling what I'm physically feeling right now? For ten goddamn years you've been literally driving me crazy. You can't just kiss me and expect me to not feel anything else."

"The problem is mutual," Cas said and swallowed. "How do we take care of what we're feeling…physically right now?"

"You mean you've never jerked off?" Dean stared wide eyed. "Come on!"

"I've never…jerked off." Cas squinted up at the other man. "I'm not exactly well versed in sex. Having only done it once forcefully with a woman."

"Right," pinching the bridge of his nose, Dean sighed. "Shit, I'm sorry. I just thought that you knew a lot more than you were letting off. I'm such an idiot."

"No you're not," Cas stood up and took a hold of Dean's shoulder. He squeezed gently. "I've been on this earth longer than you have. I've seen love in every form possible. And I know as much. I know that when you're like this…" he suddenly rested a hand between Dean's legs and unearthed a low moan from the other man, "you're turned on."

"That's putting it lightly," Dean was staring into Cas' blue eyes almost as if he was completely surprised from the angel's boldness. "You're going to make me lose my mind if you keep your hand there, Cas. Really and truly, I…oh god." He stopped breathing when a hand was slipped into the waist of his jeans and almost expertly, Cas did all the right things.

Back in his bedroom with his headphones on, it dawned upon Sam that it was almost six. He hadn't had a wink of sleep but yet, he felt so contented. They had accomplished something huge. At this point, he was certain that it was the right thing. Thank god his bedroom was sound proof or else he would have been fearful of the days to follow.

He knew his brother's sexual appetite always needed to be fed. For a long time Dean hadn't really slept with anyone for that matter. So to think of all the pent up sexual tension he had to unleash. Poor Cas had no idea what was coming, did he? Then again, Cas was the stronger one. Cas would more than likely be the top.

"Oh god," Sam squeezed his eyes shut, "don't think about it. Don't think about it." He rolled onto his side and tried to hum the lyrics to Eye of the Tiger.

…..

My first Destiel fic! I hope I did well!


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